


The King's Cage

by ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Curses, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 17:03:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20951849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass/pseuds/ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass
Summary: The door closes on Seungcheol, locking him outside on the cold stone steps and in the light of the braziers. He stands motionless for a moment as his mind yells at him to run home, slip the sapphire around Jeonghan’s neck and pray he isn’t too late, but at the same time something in him, buried deep in a place that Seungcheol can’t name, feels drawn to Minghao.





	The King's Cage

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters I write about are inferred from public personas but should not be taken as accurate portrayals of their real world counterparts. Some fans have a hard time separating fantasy and reality, so before you read my story, I implore you to recognize these as characters, not celebrities. Please don’t project what you read in stories onto real people. Please respect real people.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy my fic.

To his horror, he realizes he’s been this way before. Staring at the grand window before him, Seungcheol curses whoever designed the floor plan for this god forsaken building, and their unfounded love of both scenic views and dead ends.

He could turn around, try a different route, but the gentle padding of feet has been following him for some time, and even now it only grows louder. Seungcheol can’t outrun whoever, or whatever, they have roaming the halls at night, so he might as well continue to mentally berate the library’s architect. It’s a much more enjoyable endeavor than facing the reality of his impending arrest.

The quiet steps ring in Seungcheol’s ears as they approach, closer and closer, and since he’s sure that he’ll cry and beg if he looks, he’s determined not to turn around. At least, until a chirrup sounds behind him.

Slowly peering over his shoulder and down the moonlit corridor, Seungcheol finds glowing green eyes. Meeting his gaze is a sleek, black cat.

Wait.

The library of Pridewind employs a cat to out intruders?

The cat meows, its trilling voice echoing down the hall, and then Seungcheol stands mildly horrified as its back arches and its figure starts to morph. Soon enough, standing not fifteen feet away from Seungcheol is a man. Not a cat, then. A shifter. Great.

“The library closed to guests at nightfall,” the man says, his tone giving Seungcheol the distinct sense of someone who is not to be taken lightly. The small sheath at his hip that undoubtedly carries a blade contributes to the image as well. “What are you doing here?”

“I wa- I’m just- I didn’t-” Seungcheol rambles. He’s never been a good liar, and this man has been tracking him through the halls, who knows how closely. It’s very likely that he knows what Seungcheol is hiding, that he has all of the answers he needs to apprehend Seungcheol here and now, but is toying with him - like a cat that’s cornered a mouse.

Seungcheol is saved from his own useless mouth when warm light fills the corridor behind the shifter, causing him to turn partially as a new figure emerges from around the corner.

“Heavens sake, Chan, what did we talk about?” The newcomer asks, less like he’s actually annoyed and more like he’s fondly exasperated with a child.

The shifter - Chan - suddenly looks bashful, bringing a hand up to rub at his neck as he says, “You have to give me this one, Minghao. Not even Hansol could get lost for hours. Besides, he seems shifty.” He glances back at Seungcheol then, and for a moment Seungcheol would almost swear he sees those assessing, slitted feline pupils, but then he blinks and all he sees are dark, normal human eyes.

Minghao walks forward, making the candle inside the small lantern cradled in his hand flicker slightly, only settling again to burn dimly while somehow still casting light out effectively once he stops in front of Seungcheol. They stare at each other, Minghao’s eyes flitting back and forth as Seungcheol stands tense, frozen, before him.

After a moment, Minghao hums, faces Chan again, and says, “I don’t see what you mean, Chan. He has a lovely aura about him. I don’t sense any ill intent.” So he’s an empath. Quickly Seungcheol finds his anxiety being coupled with wonder. After all, he’s never been in the presence of such a rare gift before.

“If he’s so innocent, what’s he doing here, then?” Chan asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Minghao turns, and his attention returning to Seungcheol is much more pleasant than when it was Chan’s. Where Chan glared at Seungcheol, Minghao is smiling at him, his expression warm and painted amber by the light.

“Are you a scholar?” Minghao asks.

“Yes!” Seungcheol says, definitely faster than he should have. Minghao doesn’t seem to find his eagerness suspicious, thankfully. But then, Seungcheol has heard that once empaths make decisions about people, it is near impossible to change their minds, so really he should be grateful that Minghao seems to think him … lovely? He at least thinks Seungcheol’s aura is lovely. “I was looking for a text and I suppose I lost both track of time and my way.”

Minghao offers Seungcheol a sympathetic smile as he says, “It is a very large building, isn’t it.” Then he sways to the side, pivoting slightly, and adds, “I can help you with one of your losses and show you the way out, but I’m afraid you’ll have to come back for the text another time, as the library is closed to the public for the night.”

“If you’re handling this, I’ll continue the rounds,” Chan says before walking away, his shadowed silhouette shrinking down before disappearing into the darkness completely.

Shifting his gaze from where Chan vanished, Minghao locks onto Seungcheol again from the corner of his eye, gestures down the hall, and asks, “Shall we?”

With a nod, Seungcheol falls into step just behind Minghao, trailing him through corridor after corridor, down staircase after staircase. When they finally arrive in the grand hall, it seems like ages have passed. The space feels so much different in the dead of night compared to when Seungcheol first arrived - more ominous, and almost alive. Maybe it’s his nerves, but the chandeliers glimmering high above the tables seem to be gently swinging, forced to shift rhythmically, restlessly by an imperceptible force.

Seungcheol is snapped out of observing the networks of crystal overhead when they’re weaving through the crowd of chairs and Minghao suddenly says, “I’m sorry if Chan frightened you. I’ve spoken with him many times about his confrontational behavior, but he’s quite suspicious of others and can’t seem to shake it.”

“He was just doing his job. I realize you have to be careful since you have so many artifacts on display here,” Seungcheol says. The sapphire amulet in his pocket feels like it burns as his fingers close around it in an attempt to soothe his mounting unease, his desperation to escape and get back to Jeonghan.

A hum is all Minghao responds with, leading Seungcheol the rest of the way to the large wooden doors that mark Seungcheol’s freedom. He grips the handle and poises himself to pull before he stops, angling his head down and casting his voice over his shoulder as he whispers, “When you leave this place, do not come back.”

The air around them presses in on Seungcheol in the wake of Minghao’s words. He blinks, opens and closes his mouth multiple times before stuttering, “I- I don’t understand.”

“You’ve taken what you have for a reason, and a good one, so I won’t stop you from taking it, but you cannot return if you do.” Minghao lifts his eyes, meets Seungcheol’s through the gaps in his bangs, and continues, “The library remembers, but they won’t be able to find you if you stay away.”

He jerks the door open then, stepping to the side and allowing light to pour into the entranceway from the twin blue fire braziers as wind storms across the threshold. Seungcheol moves slowly, hesitantly, afraid Minghao is playing with him. He doesn’t feel the same way Chan did - distrustful - Minghao feels earnest, but it would not be the first time Seungcheol’s impression of someone was wrong.

Nonetheless, when Seungcheol is beside Minghao, he glances at him and, now with the light behind Minghao, he sees the horrid mark that sprawls across the back of his neck, an all-consuming red that disappears down beyond the neckline of his shirt. The sight is nauseating. Whether it’s a terrible display of magic or physical cruelty, Seungcheol couldn’t begin to guess, he’s never seen anything like it before.

“Thank you,” Seungcheol says impulsively. He feels silly after the words leave his mouth, but he wanted to do something nice, even just something as small as thanking Minghao for the immense favor he’s granting Seungcheol now. Especially with that mark, Seungcheol has a feeling that Minghao is the sort of person who could use a little extra kindness.

Minghao shifts, shrugs, muttering, “Magic is meant to be used. That amulet does more good in your service than it does sitting behind glass collecting dust.” He moves away then, starting to close the door and subsequently ushering Seungcheol out as he says, “Now go, and if you know what’s good for you, don’t come back.”

The door closes on Seungcheol, locking him outside on the cold stone steps and in the light of the braziers. He stands motionless for a moment as his mind yells at him to run home, slip the sapphire around Jeonghan’s neck and pray he isn’t too late, but at the same time something in him, buried deep in a place that Seungcheol can’t name, feels drawn to Minghao. He wonders if Minghao is still standing on the other side of the door. If he bears other scars. If he needs help.

But these are all ifs, unknowns, Seungcheol’s mind reproves him. Jeonghan  _ is _ in need of help, and Seungcheol can finally help him now.

With slow steps, Seungcheol backs away from the library, reaching the fork in the road before he forces himself to turn and dash down the loose dirt path. Jeonghan needs him, needs the amulet, so Seungcheol won’t waste any more time.

However, once he’s given Jeonghan the amulet and Jeonghan’s recovering, once Seungcheol has a little more room to breathe, maybe he could help Minghao too.

**Author's Note:**

> I 100% admit to liberating the title from an episode of Critical Role, but what can you do, it's a sick title.
> 
> -  
Art exists to be witnessed.
> 
> If you’re so inclined after reading my fic, comments are always appreciated, especially if you have thoughts, feelings, or questions about the story. Regardless of whether it’s long or short, comments let me know that my work was engaged with, which, as a writer, is all I hope for those reading my fic to do.


End file.
